


Hero

by lblondie101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 18:10:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lblondie101/pseuds/lblondie101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 2. Stiles has a hard time dealing with events post lacrosse game and is soon given the true meaning of a hero from Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This is the brief section of my full story that I submitted to the fanfiction contest!

      His feet were taking him deeper into the dark forest. Before he knew it, his fingers were digging into the earths' ground, the dirt getting underneath his growing fingernails. But he kept going, either unaware or lacking to see anything out of the ordinary. Through the forest he ran on all fours. He didn't stop until he saw a figure, illuminated only by the full moon above them. Skeptically, he paused for only a moment until the figure tilted his head back and howled.  
      That's when he woke up.  
      Stiles sat up in his bed alarmingly with sweat dripping from his face. I have got to stop reading about this stuff before bed, he thought to himself as he picked up the book on werewolves, that was laying haphazardly on the bed next to him. Wearily, he turned his head and looked over at the clock. The numbers shone brightly in his eyes, causing him to squint and blink. Resting his head back down against his pillow, he was about to close his eyes when he heard the sound of a door closing.  
Climbing out of bed, Stiles made his way out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. “Dad?” he asked.  
      “Hey son,” Sheriff Stilinski sighed, taking a seat at the dinner table. He took off his hat and placed it next to him before resting his head in his hands.  
      “You okay? It's three in the morning.” Stiles was normally curious when his dad came home late but over the course of the past few weeks, he had been even more curious and sometimes worried.  
      “It's nothing Stiles, really,” the sheriff said. “What are you doing up anyways? As if I actually want to know.”  
      “Oh, I just woke up and heard the door close.” Stiles sat down across from his dad. “So, what was it, another dead body? Robbery?”  
      “It was nothing Stiles.”  
      “Oh come on. Just tell me. I swear I won't tell Scott. You got to at least clue me in,” said Stiles, trying to lighten up the conversation.  
      “Stiles for the last time it was nothing.” It wasn't a yell, but Stiles fell silent. “I was just taking a drive.”  
      “At three in the morning?”  
      “Yes, at three in the morning. Anything else you want to know?”  
      Stiles frowned and studied his father. Ever since the events leading up to and proceeding the last lacrosse game, Stiles had noticed a change in his fathers usual behavior and mood.  
      “No I guess that's it,” Stiles whispered, standing up and heading back to the stairs.  
      “Stiles,” his dad said right is he reached the base of the stairwell. Stiles turned around and looked at his father. “How's your face?”  
Stiles bit his lip, remembering how he really got hurt after the game, rather than what he had told his dad. “It's fine,” he lied before walking back to his room. The physical pain was gone, that part was true. But the emotional pain behind the scars and bruises was a different story. Stiles not only wished that he could tell his dad what really happened, but wished that he didn't have to. He was sick of people telling him that he was strong when he felt the exact opposite. He wanted to be a hero.

* * *

      “Another one?” Scott asked Stiles in disbelief.  
      “Yeah, except this time, I was a werewolf.” Stiles recalled the dream he had had that night. “It was so freaking awesome.”  
Stiles pulled into the school parking lot then next morning. “Well you know what this means,” Scott said.  
      “Seriously? You'll bite me? Dude, I know I've said this a lot but I love you man. So uh how does this work?”  
Scott laughed. “Stiles you idiot. I'm not biting you.” Scott got out of the jeep and walked over to the drivers side.  
      “Okay you really need to learn how to not lead people on,” Stiles begged. Instead of replying, Scott just laughed again and walked away towards the school.

* * *

     The rest of the day went by slower than ever for Stiles. It was hard enough for an ADHD teenager to pay attention for eight hours in school but today was even worse. Stiles sat silently in chemistry but instead of doing his work, he looked up at the clock once again, waiting for the bell to ring.  
      “Mr. Stilinski no matter how many times you look at the clock, it's not going to go any faster. I suggest you continue to work before you lose a night of sleep finishing it,” Mr. Harris said from the front of the classroom. “Unless you want more work to do.”  
       “All set,” Stiles said. “Getting back to work,” he looked at the clock one more time. “Now.”  
      Five minutes later, the bell did ring, sending Stiles in a panic to pack and head out the door. As soon as he was in the hallway, he searched for a familiar face. He spotted Erica leaning against her locker talking to Boyd and causally walked over. “Ah what a beautiful day,” he said.  
      “What do you want Stiles?” Erica asked, annoyed.  
      “Can't a guy converse with his friends without the interrogation?”  
      Boyd rolled his eyes and stood in front of Stiles. Stiles looked up Boyd who stood at least half a foot taller than him. “We're not friends Stiles. What do you want?”  
      “Okay, okay! Jeez, calm down. I was just wondering if either of you would be interested in uh, you know,” Stiles looked around before opening his mouth and taking a bite out of the air.  
      “You want to be one of us?” Erica asked incredulously. “Since when? Can't bare to be the only helpless one left in your little group of friends anymore?”  
Stiles gave Erica a blank stare. Her words hit Stiles like a lacrosse ball to the chest but he wasn't about to show it.  
      “Get out of here Stiles,” Boyd said, shrugging his backpack over his shoulder.  
      “Out of luck again,” Erica taunted. She laughed as she and Boyd walked away into the crowd of students leaving the building.  
      Before he could think of anything witty to yell at them, Stiles felt a hand clasp down on his shoulder. He turned around to see Scott, eyebrows raised. “Stiles, why were you just talking to them?”  
      “Who?”  
      “You know who. You aren't still going on about that bite are you?”  
      Stiles pursed his lips and shrugged. “I wouldn't have to ask them if you'd just cooperate.”  
      “Stiles,” Scott paused. “Look, it's not going to happen. Are you going to give me a ride home or not?”  
      Stiles gritted his teeth. “Oh sure, I only ask one thing from the guy who gets a ride to school with me everyday instead of having to ride his puny bike here and he says no.”  
      Scott thought about it and smiled. “Yeah that about sums it up.”  
      Without wanting to start an argument, Stiles sighed and fished his keys out of his jean pockets. “Let's go,” he said with an attitude.

* * *

      Stiles walked into the kitchen and saw a note on the table. Working late. Please call if you need anything. Be safe – love, Dad. Rolling his eyes, Stiles grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge and headed upstairs. He opened his bedroom door, threw his backpack on the floor and flopped down on his bed.  
      “Bad day?” Stiles shot up and jumped back when he saw Derek Hale sitting in the chair by his window.  
      “God, can you at least warn me when you're going to harbor your werewolf ass in my house?” Stiles put his hands on his face as he stood up. “This is starting to get old.”  
      “Once you tell me what the hell you're thinking,” Derek said, standing up also. He walked over to Stiles and smacked him on the side of the head, stinging his scar.  
      “Dude what the-?”  
      “What were you thinking?” Derek asked again.  
      “What are you talking about?” Stiles rubbed his head. “And can you please watch the face?”  
      “Don't play dumb with me.” Derek pointed a finger at Stiles. “You asked to be bit.”  
      Stiles looked down at the floor. “Yeah I did. I did because I am sick and tired of being a helpless loser. The whole sidekick thing isn't working out for me anymore.”  
      Derek nodded. “And you think becoming a werewolf is going change everything?”  
      “Yeah, I do.”  
      “Okay then.”  
      Stiles looked up at Derek. “Wait, what?”  
      “You want it, I'll give it to you.”  
      “Just like that?”  
      “Yeah, doesn't mean I'm going to help you after.”  
      “And you're for real?” Derek nodded a second time. “Well, alright. Just um, go ahead I guess.” Stiles held out his arm and closed his eyes, preparing for the pain. Derek grabbed his arm and pulled Stiles into him. Instead of biting the pale flesh that was presented to him, he let go of the arm and placed his hands on Stile's face. Derek could feel Stiles' body tense up. Stiles was about to speak when Derek's lips pressed into his own. He felt his body relax as their lips kept meeting.  
      It was as if all of his thoughts disappeared. Stiles couldn't focus on anything other than the present situation. The thought of turning was long gone. Derek's hands fell from his face and wrapped around his waist, pressing him tight against his body. When Derek pulled his mouth back but rested his forehead against Stiles', both boys were breathing heavily.  
      “That was,” Stiles gulped. “unexpected.”  
      “I never got to properly thank you.”  
      “Thank me? For what?” Stiles voice cracked.  
      “Let's see. Saving my ass in the pool for one.”  
      “Yeah, after I almost let you drown. I was just doing what I had to. Besides, you've had to save my ass a lot more.”  
      Derek lifted his head just enough to give Stiles another kiss. “You're stronger than you think, Stiles.”  
      “God, okay what are you doing?” Stiles asked angrily, pulling away from Derek completely and sitting down on the bed.  
      Derek frowned. “Trying to convince you that you're-”  
      Stiles stood up as he cut Derek off. “Convince me? What? Convince me that I'm a hero? I'm not a hero. I never will be. And if anyone is going to try and change that, it sure as hell isn't going to be you.” He pushed Derek away, making him stumble back a bit. “Now why don't you just run along and save the day with your pack.”  
      “Stiles.”  
      “Just leave.” Stiles shouted. Stiles rarely got this angry but Derek could sense from his racing heart beat that he should leave. As he got closer to the door, he paused and turned around. Stiles, with his back to Derek, stood aimlessly in the middle of the room.  
      “Stiles. You don't need a bite to make you a hero.”

* * *

     “Stiles. You don't need a bite to make you a hero.”  
      It was all a dream. Stiles was sure of it. As he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, he replayed the earlier events in his head over and over. He slowly ran his fingers over his lips. Although he never really thought about it, he always pictured his first kiss to be with a girl. A girl like Lydia. But he wasn't about to deny that the kiss he just shared with Derek was the greatest feeling in the world.  
      Instead of thinking that Derek's intention for kissing him was because he felt something for Stiles, he figured it was just another ploy to trick him into doing whatever he wanted.  
      Stiles grabbed a pillow and placed it over his head, letting out a muffled groan. He didn't want to admit it, but besides the potential impromptu kiss, Derek was right. He didn't need the bite to make him a hero. Granted it didn't make him feel any more like a hero, but it helped. He just hoped that Derek was at least being truthful about that.  
Throwing the pillow to the side of the bed, Stiles reached into is pockets and pulled out his phone. He dialed Derek's number but paused just before he hit send. He took a deep breath to calm the nerves that had taken over his body. His legs jerked up and down in anticipation after he pressed send and waited for Derek to pick up.  
      “You've reached Derek Hale. Leave a message.” Stiles' stomach sank when he heard the voice mail and hung up before the beep.  
      “Nope,” he muttered to himself. He threw the phone on the bed and walked over to the window. The room was beginning to feel stuffy, so Stiles opened the window and let the cool evening breeze calm him down. He was about to go downstairs when he heard a noise. He whipped around and took a step back in shock when he saw Derek.      "Seriously have you ever heard of knocking?”  
      “Fine, I'll leave.” Derek walked back towards the window. His hand was on the windowsill when Stiles spoke.  
      “No, don't.” Derek cocked his head. “Did you mean what you said before? You know, about all that hero stuff.”  
      Derek didn't respond. He just watched Stiles fidget in place, throwing a hand behind his head and rubbing the beck of his neck.  
      “And um, you thanking me. Did you mean that too.” Again, Derek didn't respond. “God, will you just say something?”  
      Derek stepped forward and hastily grabbed Stiles shirt collar, bringing him in for a kiss.  
      “Wait, wait, wait,” Stiles blurted out nervously.  
      Derek stopped and looked up. “What now?”  
      “What are you doing?”  
      “Well it looks like I'm about to kiss you.”  
      “No, I mean, this, in general. Don't get me wrong,” Stiles scrunched his lips. “I uh, like it, and everything,” he said slowly, “but I don't get it. Why me? I mean there are plenty of other fish in the sea, am I right?”  
      “I obviously like you, Stiles.” Derek, not being one to openly talk about feelings, especially his own, put his hand to his face and rubbed his chin. “Yes you can be a pain in the ass,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. Stiles smirked, knowing perfectly well where Derek was coming from. “But, there is something about you that I don't know, makes me go crazy.”  
      “That's called love my friend,” Stiles pointed out, patting Derek's shoulder.  
      “I don't love you,” Derek snapped. “Let me make that very clear.”  
      “But you like me enough to,” Stiles looked at Derek's lips. “You know.”  
      “Uh, yeah.”  
      “Well I like you too. You still scare the crap out of me sometimes, but I like you too.”  
      “Okay then.” Derek nodded in agreement.  
      “So um I'm guessing that you kinda want to get back to,” Stiles' looked down.  
      “Yeah,” Derek responded.  
      “Right,” Stiles' exasperated. “I, um, just go easy on me.”  
      “Stiles',” Derek said calmly. “One more thing.” Stiles looked terrified. “I'm not your boyfriend.”  
      “But that could change?” Derek growled. “Okay, okay! God, don't be such a sour wolf.”  
      Just then, Stiles' phone rang. “I should get that.” Stiles' ducked away from Derek, almost tripping, and grabbed his phone off of his desk before completely losing his balance.  
      “Hey dad,” he said.  
      “I don't even want to know what's going on,” the sheriff said on the other end of the line. “But, I'm going to be a little late coming home tonight.”  
      “Everything okay?”  
      “Oh, yeah.” Stiles heard a groan.  
      “Dad,” Stiles egged. “Where are you?” There was no answer. “Dad, where are you?” Stiles asked again.  
      “I'm at the hospital. But don't worry. Just got a little hurt today.”  
      “Dad, what happened?”  
      “Stiles listen, it's really nothing. Just a few scrapes. I will see you later, I have to go, the doctor's waiting. Bye.”  
      “Dad, dad!” Stiles said to the beeping on the other line, seeing that his father had hung up on him. “Gah,” he exclaimed, slamming his phone back down on the desk.  
      “What happened?” Derek asked.  
      “I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. He just told me not to worry.” Stiles made his way back over to the bed and sat down. “If he's hurt, I want to know. I need to know. He's been acting very different after the lacrosse game.”  
      “I'm sure he's fine,” Derek said, putting a hand on Stiles' bare shoulder.  
      “It's not just that. I can't always be there for him. What's going to happen the next time another freakish lizard thing comes at him? Or another werewolf?”  
      “We'll protect him.”  
      “It's not the same. I want to be the one to protect him. When Matt hurt him, I couldn't do anything about it. I felt so weak.”  
      “You were paralyzed for most of that.”  
      “See, that's exactly what I mean.”  
      “And I was too. These things happen.”  
      “It just sucks.”  
      “Stiles, you don't need any super human powers to be there for people.”  
      “Coming from the werewolf,” Stiles uttered. “You're not helping my point.”  
      “No, the point is, you need to believe in yourself more. That's it.” Derek stood up and walked over towards the door.  
      “Wait, where are you going?”  
      “Your dad is going to be home soon and last time I checked, we still weren't on the best of speaking terms.”  
      “I don't even get a kiss goodbye?” Stiles provoked.  
      “Bye Stiles,” Derek said with a smirk. Stiles stood up and gawked at the open doorway that Derek had disappeared through. He rolled his eyes and then looked down.  
“Stupid werewolves.”


End file.
